


Important Stuff to Do in the Woods

by anielle



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, I would say there are hints of Brotzly but they are in a gen place here, I'd call the genre closest to fluff because it's mostly fun times, Spookfest 2018!, T is just for swearing honestly, but also maybe more nefarious Halloween costumes...., fun with Halloween costumes!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-09 03:44:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16442366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anielle/pseuds/anielle
Summary: Despite the state of his apartment, his dubious job, and the overall not-put-together-ness of his entire life, Todd is a grown man in his 30s.  He's not exactly excited to crash a college Halloween  party, but Dirk had very much wanted to come. It really isn’t Dirk’s scene, though, so maybe Todd is right about tonight being a new case. Maybe when he loses Dirk in the crowd of costumed people, it's the beginning of a new crazy adventure.Not that there is any reason to believe any universe stuff will be happening tonight, and he doesn’t need, you know, the threat of apocalyptic repercussions to hang out with his best friend. But when Dirk ‘very much’ wants stuff to happen, well…





	Important Stuff to Do in the Woods

Dirk had wanted to come to this thing. Had very much wanted, near as Todd could tell, although that was not the most dependable meter because everything about Dirk clocks in as ‘very much’ in Todd’s opinion. Still, even if you call bullshit on Todd’s opinion, which is generally a good move, the ‘had wanted’ in this particular case is unimpeachable.

Dirk’s eyes had flown wide when he found the flyer. He’d danced it with both hands in front of his face as he exclaimed, “A costume party?!” packed with the enthusiasm people usually reserved for, ‘It’s a boy!’ or, ‘He pulled through the surgery!’ or something. But it was Dirk, so it was all, “A _costume_ party!” and, “I could go as an apricot! Or Silas Dengdamoor!” Todd had said that usually you want to be something famous that people could recognize, which had earned him the most exaggerated eyeroll as Dirk scoffed, “He’s a _prince_ , Todd.”

Instead, since he didn’t have time to grow a beard (and Todd is skeptical that time is the only thing standing in the way of a bearded Dirk), he’d come as something called Noddy, which meant he was wearing a bright red shirt, a yellow bandana knotted around his neck, and an floppy blue hat with an actual jingle bell hanging on the pointed end.

Todd would happily have shown up in just jeans and a band t-shirt; he isn’t much for costumes. Despite the state of his apartment, his dubious job, and the overall not-put-together-ness of his entire life, Todd is a grown man in his 30s. He believes the playacting of all-out costumes is something to give up in your preteen years, and so he’s particularly touchy about the fact that he had sort of been performing full-time until Dirk had showed up less than a year ago. But he can at least grudgingly admit that if being more adult is the goal, getting over himself is probably the right thing to do.

So he’d come to this party in a full apron, like a line cook would wear, except it’s decorated in flames, which is a pretty solid way to make a deeply uncool apron even lamer. At least it had a big pocket where he could stash the spatula that was apparently part of the costume, too. Dirk had picked it out; it’s supposed to be a character from this podcast Amanda had gotten him into. The whole thing makes him feel viscerally stupid, but he wouldn’t put it past the universe to make embarrassing Todd an integral part of the stream of creation. Not that there is any reason to believe any universe stuff will be happening tonight, and he doesn’t need, you know, the threat of apocalyptic repercussions to hang out with his best friend. But when Dirk ‘very much’ wants stuff to happen, well… Todd now figures that going along with things is often the more practical thing to do.

But again, that’s the problem. Dirk looks miserable. He’s yanking on his neckerchief like he’s hoping that maybe if he pulls it hard enough he’ll lose oxygen and black out. Very much not enjoying himself.

Todd can’t resist rubbing it in, at least a little. “Told you that getup was going to be a pain.”

Dirk responds like he hasn’t even heard him. “It’s quite loud, isn’t it?” So maybe he actually hadn’t heard.

“It’s a house party,” Todd shouts over the pounding synth bass line. “‘Loud’ is kind of the main thing.” Loud and sticky, from the cheap beer everyone is getting too sloshed to keep from sloshing out of their cups. Speaking of, “You want a beer or something?”

“Will that make things,” Dirk wrinkles up his nose, “less…everything?”

Todd tilts his head back and forth, weighing it. “If you drink enough of it, yeah, maybe. That, or the opposite of that.”

“A resounding recommendation, Todd.”

Fair enough. “I’m going to get a drink.” He takes a few steps away before coming to his senses and leaning back to grab Dirk’s wrist. “Stay around here-ish so I can find you again?”

Dirk nods, looking pale and disgusted as he presses up against the wall, fighting the lost battle to preserve his personal space in the crush of the hallway. He doesn’t seem likely to swan off, as firmly as he has removed himself from the current.

 

Todd should have known. Of course Dirk wasn’t going to just stay put. Of course he wouldn’t just be where Todd could find him again. He’d brought two solo cups just in case Dirk changed his mind on the wisdom of remaining entirely sober, but there is no longer a Dirk here and Todd is just standing around like an idiot, by himself, in a party made up of mostly college kids. So not just an idiot, but also a creep. An old creepy idiot in a stupid costume. Why had he let Dirk talk him into coming to this thing? It is really not Dirk’s scene, and it isn’t Todd’s anymore, either.

A little thrill runs through him. It really _isn’t_ Dirk’s scene, so maybe Todd had been right about tonight being a new case. Maybe this is the beginning of a new crazy adventure.

Sometimes, when his mind wanders, Todd speculates what other stuff they could possibly get up to – with time travel and alternate dimensions already in the ‘been there, done that’ category, what kind of insanity could the universe come up with to throw at them next? Dirk had mentioned Thor once, so apparently gods and mythical beings are something Todd might meet one of these days. Or aliens. Or… Honestly, Todd’s imagination isn’t vibrant enough to come up with too many options. Everything they’d come across so far had always been so far outside what he could fathom that he’s sure he’ll never be able to prepare for whatever comes next, with Dirk. Todd really doesn’t mind; ‘free’ is in the word ‘freefalling’ for a reason, and although it has its moments of heart-stopping terror, it’s a lot more fun that planning paycheck to paycheck.

Todd reaches out to a pair of sexy cats. “Have you seen a… ” —describing Dirk’s costume is not easy— “…elf man?”

The blonde girl at least shrugs at him and shakes her head. Her friend shoots him a look like she’s memorizing his description so she can report him as a skeeze to the cops later. “Nice apron,” she spits, tugging on her friend’s arm and moving away faster.

“It’s— ” he begins, but she doesn’t care and he doesn’t have a good explanation. He doesn’t even listen to podcasts anyway. Dumb Dirk, dragging him to this stupid party in this stupid getup, and not even sticking around!

That isn’t fair. Todd is being an asshole. ‘That’s okay, just try not to be,’ he tells himself. It’s something he’d picked up from Dirk, a thing that Dirk said he’d had to do himself a lot when he was younger.

“When I got out,” Dirk didn’t say ‘Blackwing,’ but that’s what this phrase always means, with him, “it was so beautiful to be outside and just see the sky and the air and the people. It was like a wonderful dream. But whenever bad things happened, and, well, they do tend to happen rather a lot around me,” Dirk swallowed, “it just seemed like maybe I was causing things to go wrong, and I was being so self indulgent, staying out just because of how much I liked the sunlight, and that the only way to stop hurting people – the right thing to do if I was a good person – was to go back to Blackwing and lock myself back up.”

They’d been parked at coffee shop, across the street from the apartment building of the man they were tailing, waiting in another new car that Dirk had managed to get a hold of by being Dirk. Todd always insisted on driving these days, now that he knew what a maniac Dirk was behind the wheel, and the afternoon sun had cut across the bottom of Dirk’s face in the passenger seat. If Todd had been the one talking about dark days from his past, he would have made extensive use of the cover story of keeping watch for their perp and the forward facing seats to deny eye contact at all costs, but Dirk had turned fully in his seat so that all his attention was locked on Todd.

“It wasn’t true. My brain said it, a lot, and it felt true, a lot, but it wasn’t true. I could tell, when I helped people, that actually I was where I was meant to be, where the universe wanted me to be. So whenever I would think about how selfish I was being and how horrible I was and how all this pain and destruction I was seeing was my fault, I just started to say, ‘No.’”

“What, like out loud?” Todd had asked. He’d been way out of his depth, and a little nervous about how raw Dirk was getting.

Dirk shook his head. “Just in my mind. I’d just say, ‘No, you’re wrong. You’re supposed to be here. You’re not hurting, you’re trying to help.’ As a reminder for myself, of the things I knew when I wasn’t so…when things weren’t so grim. Most of the time, these days, I don’t even have to really think about it. I just know.” He smiled over at Todd, his expression open and content in a way Todd had thought his own could never be. “I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

So Todd has been doing that, kind of. After he thinks something shitty, and then thinks about how shitty he is for thinking that, he’ll tell himself that it was a mistake but that’s okay and he should just try to not do that anymore. It had felt pretty idiotic when he’d started, cutting in to his own thoughts like a king making grand proclamations of apologies to himself, but now it’s more of a reflex. Another new step in the cycle: think a nasty thought, call himself an asshole, say it’s okay and move on. And moving on is important, especially because he has things to do besides wallowing in his own dickishness.

He needs to figure out where Dirk has gotten to. He tries to imagine what could have possibly grabbed his attention. Nothing about this place seems terribly interesting to Todd. Maybe he’d heard tell of a snack bar? Maybe he’d decided to come with Todd to get drinks after all but gotten lost? Todd goes still inside as he has a new thought: maybe Dirk hadn’t gone after anything, but was driven away instead.

It had seemed like Blackwing was leaving them alone ever since Wendimoor. From what Dirk had said, their base of operations had been significantly messed up after Kellum knights tore their way through the place. Them and Mona. But maybe the CIA doesn’t need too much time to regroup. Maybe they are here.

Anyone could be an operative. Todd shoves his way through the crowd, trying to scan through the rooms for any sign.

Everyone is shadowy in here, everyone is covering up their identity with masks or heavy makeup. Why the hell had they come here and why the fuck had Todd left Dirk behind? There would be no Wakti Wapnasi spiriting the prophesized Dirk Gently into a car trunk if Blackwing had got him again. If Blackwing had got him again, even if the agency found a way to break him out, they might find him already broken. Todd doesn’t think either of them can go through that again. Fuck, he’d gone to get a crappy beer and lost his –

“– Dirk Gently?”

Todd whips around, frantically searching the strobing room for whoever said that. It was woman’s voice…

“Yeah, I think he was heading to the kitchen to grab a drink,” a skeleton says, right by Todd’s right elbow. He thinks about shaking the guy until his bones rattle to make him spill everything he knows about Dirk’s whereabouts, but instead he decides to be grateful for what the universe has given him and get to the kitchen as fast as he can. Where even is that from here? What business did any college student have in living in a place with this many rooms?

He charges back out into the hall and directly into the fuzzy red sweater of one adult elf toy detective. “Oh thank god,” he says. “Where did you even go?”

“Todd,” Dirk says from above Todd’s head. Todd’s face is completely smushed into Dirk’s chest and to be honest, he can’t be bothered to feel anything but good about that right now. “We should go.”

“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” Todd agrees. “This party totally blows.”

Dirk encircles Todd’s wrist with a clammy, long-fingered hand and pulls him down the hall. Todd doesn’t know which way the exit is in this freaking labyrinthine bro-pad, but he follows Dirk along, coasting on the relief of finding him again. That’s probably why he doesn’t notice how Dirk’s hand is shaking until they are in the crisp fall air on the back porch. It stinks like beer and piss out here, but someone at least went to the trouble of putting little jack-o-lantern lights along the porch railing, a dark painted wood now studded with beer cans and plastic cups.

“What’s going on, Dirk? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. A real ghost, not a costume party sheet ghost,” Todd says. “Are real ghosts a thing? Have you ever seen one?”

“Don’t know why they wouldn’t be,” Dirk says, but distantly, his eyes on the party grinding on through the glass door and big windows. “We saw electric souls, that’s basically ghosts.”

“That’s not really _ghost_ ghosts.” But none of this is the point. “Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you freaking out?”

“Something’s going on here.” Now Dirk directs all his attention at Todd. “I don’t want to keep things a secret and I don’t want to alarm you, but I saw me in there.”

“You saw you.”

Dirk nods fervently. “In my smart yellow jacket, the one I lost when...” he doesn’t need to finish the thought. As if Todd would forget what jacket he was talking about, or the reason Dirk no longer had it.

“But it’s time travel?” he says.

“I suppose.” Dirk’s forehead is creased with worry. “I should have known something like this was going to happen.”

Todd shakes his head up at him. “It’s not like you could just opt out of this stuff.” It’s a difficult tightrope of a sentence, trying to communicate ‘not your fault’ without rubbing in Dirk’s face a reminder of the inherent onesidedness of his helpless relationship with the universe. He’s not sure he really succeeds.

“I could have told Farah to come.”

Oh. Well, that is an excellent point. Of course they’d asked her to come along, but she’d been smart enough to turn down the prospect of a college house party. Tina came into town for the weekend and she and Farah are blanket nesting and binging on Netflix and junk food. That’s what he and Dirk should do; it’s infinitely more fun – except and unless this business with clones or time travel or whatever is really happening. There isn’t anything more fun than a case with Dirk.

For Todd. There isn’t anything more fun than a case with Dirk for Todd. But Todd needs to think about people that aren’t Todd more often than comes naturally, which is almost never. And for Dirk? He does enjoy them, Todd knows he does, when the pieces come together and when he’s helped people and fixed problems, but that comes at a price. A price that has Dirk looking grey and drawn on the back porch of this dumb party that he had been very much excited about. Todd wells up with a specific sad fondness, kind of like that time when Amanda had decided to hold a protest party for all of the (three) other kids who hadn’t been invited to the popular girl’s birthday. When she was seven. Because Amanda has always been fiercely punk rock. He’s pretty sure Amanda was the only one who’d ever made him feel that way, before Dirk.

He’d feel worse about comparing Dirk to a child, except he is dressed as a puppet who hangs around with teddy bears and toy dolls.

“Hey, we’ll figure it out.” Not that Todd is only here for the adventure. “Or we can just get out of here.” Not that Todd wants to give a big middle finger to the universe or Dirk’s part in it. “This party sucks anyway.” And now he’s shitting all over the possibility of Dirk’s fun night. “I mean, we could stay too and that could be great, actually.” So Todd’s position is all cleared up then. “Yeah.”

His mental facepalming means it takes him longer than it should to finally come up with, “Whatever you want to do.” No reason that had to be so hard, or his fifth freaking try. It’s okay, he’s moving on.

Dirk smiles at him, but it’s distracted and strained. He’s shaking his head and his mouth is moving but he can’t seem to find his voice or an answer, and then his roving gaze catches on something in the yard over Todd’s left shoulder. His frenzy of motion stills; his head rotates to match his line of sight. Todd scrambles around to see as Dirk breathes, “Todd. Is that–”

It’s hard to see, because the only thing lighting up the backyard is the dinky pumpkin lights and the spillover from inside. Those windows are large, but the party ambiance is mainly colored and flashing, and the yard backs up into a forest of thick trees. When the lights flash brighter, Todd can make out a figure at the edge of the tree line, wearing overalls made of that safety reflective fabric, red and yellow, so probably something to do with a fireman, if Todd had to guess. It’s the hair that finally clues him in, so oddly shaped that at first he’d thought it was the outline of a hat, but once he realizes it’s frizzy hair all done up in multiple weird clumpy ponytails…

“Bart?” Todd says, and Dirk lets out a pained noise, somewhere between an exclamation and a gasp. He starts saying “What–” but he cuts himself off, because what even is he going to ask? ‘What is going on?’ ‘What should they do?’ Todd has spent enough time running around with Dirk to know that he isn’t going to have those answers yet, and he doesn’t need the extra pressure.

She starts moving towards them, and Todd would be more ashamed of how they both take immediate panicked steps backwards, except she has tried to kill them before and it’s generally a universal constant that she doesn’t miss. Well, she’s tried to kill one of them, but it’s basically the same thing, since Todd knows he will throw himself on any blade aiming for Dirk.

“She thinks you’re friends now, right? She doesn’t want to kill you anymore, I thought, so this should all be fine actually?” He stammers it out in a higher pitch than he would like.

Todd has angled himself halfway in front of Dirk, who is clutching onto Todd’s arm like it actually could protect him. “Not this version of her,” Dirk says, too loud, considering his face is inches away from Todd’s head. “This is the day she first tried to kill me!”

“Of course it is,” Todd mutters. There isn’t any farther for them to go, unless they plunge back into the grimy depths of that awful party. He doesn’t love the idea of turning his back on her, or enticing her to enter a house full of basically children, even and maybe especially since these kids are the worst.

She slows down as she thumbs her phone, the screen illuminating the blood smeared across her collarbone.

Todd registers that it’s weird for her to have a phone, and then the door behind them opens. The noise of the party swells louder by several decibels, although not quite enough to cover the surprised squeak Dirk lets out. It closes behind the two newcomers and the sound dims again.  
“’Sup,” says one of them, a guy in a dark suit and fedora. It’s hard to read his expression behind the wraparound sunglasses he’s wearing at night (Halloween is so so stupid, seriously), but Todd is pretty sure he’s leveling judgment at them. The headline of the moment isn’t that college students are jerks, though, because that isn’t news, and because Dirk is standing next to the dark suit guy.

Well. Actually. Again, party lighting, darkness, possible contact high from their state’s progressive stance on pot, but, actually, that Dirk is not Dirk. It’s understandable that from across the room, Dirk could think he was having his own 18th floor moment, but this Dirk they are staring at has a solid blue tie and is maybe a girl?

“Nice…costume?” Todd says timidly to her.

“Thanks, man,” she says, looking appropriately weirded out to be talking to a man a decade and a half her senior who evidently has a hard time grasping the concept of Halloween costumes. Her eyes flick skeptically across his body. “You make a good…Flavor Town waiter.”

“It’s a food truck thing from a podcast thing.” Todd shrugs through an explanation he doesn’t really understand and that she doesn’t really care about. Thank goodness for Dirk interrupting him.

“Todd, didn’t you say these costumes are meant to be of famous people?”

Shit.

He did say that.

That is weird.

She just laughs and sticks her hand out to Dirk. “I’m Dirk Gently.”

It looks like positivity to the outside observer, but Todd knows better now. Dirk’s eyebrows are raised high in that way they do when he’s about to explode. The wide grin on his face means he’s terrified.

Dirk takes her hand gingerly and shakes it, introducing himself as, “Todd.”

“Oh,” she blinks, taken aback. ‘Taken aback’ is also the charitable way to describe Todd’s expression. “You’re both named Todd?”

“Mmm hmm,” Dirk hums brightly and Todd can only nod. “We’re cousins,” Dirk adds, unnecessarily.

“That’s not – she doesn’t need to know that, Todd.” Todd says, packing as much irritation as he can into the name, and Todd’s pretty good at irritation. Like, he is, Todd-Todd is, not Dirk-Todd. He shakes his head at himself. This isn’t a case, it’s just ridiculous.

Dirk ignores him. Not a bad call. “You said you are a Dirk Gentle?” he asks the girl. The man calls himself a detective. Todd can’t help his eyeroll.  
“Dirk Gently,” she nods, and jerks her head to her quiet companion. “Steve is D.B. Cooper. They are kind of these online cryptids.”

Todd never would have imagined up conspiracy theory internet message boards as a security risk. Although he doesn’t usually find himself grateful to Blackwing, they were the main reason the agency never put up a website, and apparently that has so far been enough to stop these people from swamping their office. He sends up a silent ‘thank goodness’ before grimacing at that thought and following it up with an ‘and also fuck you guys,’ because really, fuck those guys.

“You don’t say,” Dirk breathes. His expressive face won’t settle on any one specific emotion. “Cryptids. What are – what do they do?”

“Murder, mostly,” Bart says, joining them on the porch and giving her girlfriend a quick kiss. This not-Bart has a bubbly voice and also is Vietnamese.

“That’s what Georgia does,” not-Dirk clarifies, gesturing at not-Bart, who agrees, “It’s all murder, all the time. Except for him! Presumably.”

D.B. Cooper speaks up for the first time, voice tight and low like a noir gumshoe. “They never found a body.” With one finger, he pushes his glasses down his nose and peers over the rims at Dirk. The danger inherent in talking to a bunch of self-proclaimed Dirk Gently experts finally settles coldly over Todd. ‘What would Farah do?’ is pretty much always a relevant question, and he thinks the answer this time would be to hustle out of here, ideally five minutes ago.

Not-Bart is going on about how their group’s earliest known Bart sighting was years ago in Georgia, hence their nickname for her. Dirk is nodding along with an energy best described as manic.

“That’s really fascinating,” Todd says, “but we definitely have to go, right D— Todd?” Todd doesn’t miss the way D.B. Cooper’s eyebrows jump at his slip of the tongue. “Like now, definitely.” He grabs onto Dirk’s elbow and yanks him towards the stairs into the yard.

“Of course, yes, we have…something…very important to do.” Dirk says, allowing himself to be pulled along. “In the woods.”

So Todd had picked the path of least resistance instead of the path of most intelligence. They could have probably walked around the house and away from this party, but sure, now they’ll just venture off into the dark woodlands of the Pacific Northwest on Halloween. That’s a perfect plan.

Not-Bart calls after them, “Okay, bye! Be careful out there!”

“We’re adults, it’s fine,” Todd yells back, then hisses at Dirk, “Into the woods, Dirk, really?”

“You’re the one pulling me!” he protests, stumbling over his feet a little as they enter into the deep black crush of the forest.

“That’s your biggest fan club, and your cover story was that we are two adult cousins with the same name who came to a college party so we could go make out in the woods. I think they might have seen through that if we stuck around much longer.”

“No one said anything about making out,” Dirk scoffs.

“‘Important stuff’ to do in the woods?”

Dirk doesn’t say anything for a bit. The only way Todd can tell that he’s still with him is that he’s still holding onto Dirk’s arm – that, and the quiet jingling of the bell on his droopy hat. Todd uses the silence to try and guide them in a direction that he hopes will curve them back around to civilization again. At least his eyes are starting to get used to the filtered starlight, so he can see the outline of trees a couple feet away. He heads in the direction that looks brightest.

Eventually, Dirk says, “You know, I haven’t been to many parties, Todd.”

“I know.”

“I’m not sure that I like them.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

They come to a spot where the trees thin out and the moonlight can reach through the few leaves left on near bare branches. Unfortunately, it’s not a neighbor’s backyard like Todd had hoped, just a clearing surrounded by more dense forest. Maybe it’d be best to turn right around and take their chances on beelining past the web sleuths, but he’s not even sure of the way that got them got out here.

“I’m not very much fun, am I?” Dirk asks.

“What? No,” Todd says, surprised. He lets go of Dirk so he can turn and look at him, then quickly clarifies, “I mean, you are fun. Of course you are. So the party kind of sucked. It’s a college house party, it’s supposed to. There’s different kinds of having fun.”

Ruefully, Dirk says, “So, when I’m on a case, I suppose.”

“Dirk, no,” Todd says. In the darkness, all he can make out of Dirk is a murky silhouette, but the silhouette is slumpy and dejected. “You the person is already fun even without all the crazy stuff. I came to this dumb party wearing this stupid apron tonight just to hang out with you. The cases, even though there’s all the death and stuff, well, the adventure is fun, but, just, so is…you.” His voice is getting tense; he’s never been great at talking about his feelings. But though Dirk might be giving himself inner pep talks all the time, Todd knows that sometimes you need to hear it from the outside to know that it’s real. He clears his throat and says, “You’re my _friend_ , Dirk.”

The moment feels like it hangs for a while in the air, but that’s probably just because Todd’s true inner assholish ways make him positively twitchy in the face of honesty. (Not an asshole, just…working on stuff. It’s okay.) Then Dirk finds his hand and squeezes. Very seriously, he says, “So is you, Todd.”

Too seriously. “Oh my god,” Todd says, ripping his hand away. “You’re going to make fun of me for that?”

“I don’t know how you think I was just _not_ going to mention it.”

“I was getting in touch with my emotions!”

“Bit of a long distance connection, apparently. Exactly how far did you have to reach?”

Todd shakes his head and stomps further into the little clearing, but he knows he’s smiling and he knows Dirk knows, too.

What he does not know is how the hell to get out of this forest that is possibly unending, or possibly really small but he’s been spiraling in tiny circles. “I don’t know, Dirk, which way do think we should go?” Dirk doesn’t say anything right away, so Todd turns to look at him. And sees both Dirks.

“Did you hear that? Yeah, that’s him. That’s Dirk Gently!”

D.B. Cooper is pointing at Dirk from the front of the pack of the three sleuths, and Todd really doesn’t like him. For the pointing and everything, but mostly because how is this computer nerd so good at forestry that he was able to follow them through this un-navigable nightmare woods? This guy is bullshit.

“Oh my god,” Not-Dirk says, touching her face in wonder, like she’s looking at someone wearing _her_ face and not the other way around. “It is you, isn’t it?”

“I am me,” Dirk says. His eyes are huge and he shakes his head over at Todd in that specifically Dirk way that says he is completely out of his depth.

D.B. Cooper steps forward. “You’ve got to—”

Todd cuts that right off. “Back off, man.” He steps up, putting himself in front of his friend. Dirk does not ‘got to’ do anything for anyone.

Dirk’s fanclub are exchanging wordless conversations amongst themselves. Todd is considering just grabbing Dirk’s hand and running off into the trees when the entire earth shudders. Twice.

It’s from behind him. He definitely should turn around, because the color has entirely left the frozen faces of the kids, all three staring at a spot many feet above Todd’s head. There’s a weird war in him, between the part that is aware that having his back to whatever fresh danger is here now is a bad idea, and the part that really doesn’t want to move.

“Todd,” Dirk says, politely. Todd turns around.

He says, “That’s a bigfoot.”

From behind him, swear words and the crash of bodies racing through the brush clue him into the fact that he and Dirk are alone together again. Standing shoulder to shoulder, staring up at a sasquatch slowly blocking out the stars as it makes its lumbering way through the forest.  
“We should probably call Farah,” Dirk says, so Todd pulls out his phone. He can’t get it unlocked, though, and then it flies off into the night. At least a bat is a more thematically relevant costume for Mona.

But, “I guess I didn’t actually bring my phone. Sorry,” Todd says. “I think it’s just you and me on this one, Dirk.”

Dirk grins at him. It’s an expression that Todd has seen a lot, at this point. His reaction to has it changed over time, shifting as they grew to know each other better - at first, that mischievous look had filled him with alarm. Later on, it was annoyance, and then, eventually, excitement. Todd’s not sure he knows exactly the right word for the swell of feeling he has when he sees that face these days. How can you describe the experience of seeing the majesty of the universe beaming out from underneath a floppy stocking cap?

“This,” Dirk says, with infectious certainty, “is exactly how it’s supposed to be.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to @flightinflame for being my partner and giving such great feedback! And also @electricteatime for setting up the spookfest - this was way fun.
> 
> Flightinflame also told me about Noddy, which I had never heard of before and was absolutely perfect for a Dirk costume. (Todd's is Joaquin from The Adventure Zone, in case anyone is curious...)
> 
> I love dghda and the whole beautiful fandom, and this was a really fun way to get involved and write something for the best show/fans out there! Thanks for being you guys, you guys :)


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